


I'm Starting To Want You (More Than I Want To)

by wherehopelies



Series: If You Want, We'll Share This Life (When Nobody Understands You, Well, I Do) [5]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Pining, Tiny bit of Angst, chloes dog gus makes a brief appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: "In the years after, they’ll say it started with a kiss on a stormy night. They’ll say it began with tequila and lust and boredom. They’ll remember hot skin and frantic breathing and the taste of alcohol mixed with new beginnings and maybe just a little bit of we-shouldn’t-do-this.The truth is, it was much more innocent than that."For Bemily Week, Day 5 - Friends with Benefits





	I'm Starting To Want You (More Than I Want To)

In the years after, they’ll say it started with a kiss on a stormy night. They’ll say it began with tequila and lust and boredom. They’ll remember hot skin and frantic breathing and the taste of alcohol mixed with new beginnings and maybe just a little bit of _we-shouldn’t-do-this_.

The truth is, it was much more innocent than that.

It started on a wintry day, walking out of a coffee shop, breath visible in the air. It began with snowflakes in their hair, laughter in their bellies, the gentle brush of a hand.

They’ll say it started with a touch, but the reality is much subtler.

It started with a look.

//

“It’s snowing,” Emily says, pushing out of the coffee shop.

Beca looks up, grunting in displeasure. “Great.” She didn’t bring a hat.

Emily didn’t either, but she apparently doesn’t mind. She turns her face up to the sky and sticks her tongue out. Snowflakes collect on her black jacket and in her hair and probably on her tongue. She beams at Beca.

“It’s beautiful.”

Beca’s cold, and she’s stuffed her hands in her pockets, and she’s definitely frowning. But there _is_ something beautiful about Emily smiling at her happily, snowflakes caught on her eyelashes, her cheeks pink with cold.

It makes Beca feel warmer, makes her stomach shake just the slightest with laughter. She reaches out and brushes a drop of wetness off Emily’s cheek.

“Thanks,” Emily says, her voice soft and happy and earnest.

“Yeah,” Beca responds, but she’s kind of lost in the depths of Emily’s eyes, the way they’re somehow both bright and dark at the same time.

She doesn’t notice, but her axis of existence shifts just a little, her perspective changing. She takes in Emily’s lips, caught up in the way her teeth bite over the bottom one just a little before licking the snow away. She’s enraptured by the slope of Emily’s neck, peeking out under her jacket, the way her hair curls the tiniest amount at the ends where it falls down her back.

She’s swept away in Emily’s expression, the freeness of it, the way she’s looking at Beca like they’re the only people in the world, the two of them in a snow globe, shivering and smiling at each other.

She won’t recognize it in the years to come, but it started there, on a wintry day, the two of them standing in the snow outside a coffee shop.

//

Weeks pass.

Beca finds herself thinking of her roommate more often, the girl crossing her mind when she’s at work in the studio with some overconfident but undertalented artist.

They text back and forth constantly, asking each other about their days and complaining about their coworkers and making dinner plans.

Emily’s busy with a big project, having recently received a research grant. She comes home talking about cognitive theories and neurological stimuli and Beca has no idea what she’s going on about, but she likes how passionate Emily gets, always talking with her hands and thinking out loud just because Beca’s there.

Sometimes the air around them feels turbulent, like if Emily touches Beca’s arm or meets her gaze or gives her this certain kind of smile, ripples vibrate through Beca’s ribcage.

She’s just not exactly sure where they’re coming from.

//

The weather forecast issues a warning for a massive storm moving in.

They stock up on snacks and food that doesn’t need to be kept cold and alcohol.

Emily comes back from teaching soaking wet and out of breath. “The storm’s definitely a big one,” she says, shrugging off her coat and pushing the wet strands of her bangs out of her face.

Beca’s eyes follow the movement, her stomach tying itself in knots.

“You okay?” Emily asks, shooting Beca a look.

Beca clears her throat and turns back to her laptop. “Yeah. Just, uh, trying to finish this up.”

“Okay. Gonna change, be back.” Emily trails a comforting hand across her shoulder as she moves past. She disappears into her room and Beca stares at the closed door, a strange sense of anticipation settling in her chest.

//

Wind whips the tree branches outside and thunder booms, first in the distance then closer.

Emily’s laughing at something on Instagram when the power goes out, suddenly plunging them into near darkness. The only light is the soft blue square of Emily’s phone on her face.

“Beca?”

“I’m here.”

She’s already in the kitchen, so she shuffles her way toward the junk drawer and pulls out the lighter they keep there. There’s a candle on the counter and she lights it, watching as shadows from the flame flicker across the walls.

The flashlight on Emily’s phone flicks on, a beaming speck of light from the family room. “I guess the power’s out,” Emily says, causing Beca to smile a little to herself because like, yeah. Obviously.

“Yeah. Do we have any more candles?”

“I have some in my room. Hang on.” Beca hears Emily moving toward their bedrooms, her small lightbeam disappearing from view.

She’s back quickly after, bumping up next to Beca in the dark, her light accidentally shining in Beca’s eyes.

“Ow.”

“Oops, sorry.” Emily sets four or five candles down on the counter. “Do you have the lighter?”

Beca passes her the lighter and a minute later they can see each other, their faces orange and pale by the candlelight. Emily turns her phone light off.

“Well this is cozy,” she smiles, nudging Beca with her elbow.

“At least we’re prepared.” Beca reaches over on the counter and grabs the tequila she’d bought the day before. “Nothing says black out like tequila.”

“Ha.” Emily grabs a couple of glasses from the cabinet. “Tequila only has that effect on you.”

Laughter bubbles up in Beca’s chest. “Sounds like a challenge.”

They pour themselves drinks and move the candles into the living room, placing them on the coffee and end tables. The room is barely lit, but they can see each other from their spots on the couch. Beca plays music from her phone, not really caring if it dies before the power comes on.

Emily pulls a deck of cards from the coffee table drawer and deals them out. They spend an hour playing SlapJack and drinking before Beca’s feeling pretty drunk, and by the sound of Emily’s giggles, she’d guess her roommate is heading in the same direction.

Sometime around ten, the storm is still raging outside, but they barely notice. They’ve migrated to the floor, Beca lying on her back and Emily sitting with hers against the couch. Emily’s twisting a lock of Beca’s hair around her finger, singing along to the music quietly playing from Beca’s phone. The candlelight still flickers around them and Beca can’t stop staring at the way it reflects in Emily’s eyes.

Emily notices her looking and smiles at her, all soft and easy and private.

The tequila’s making Beca warm, making her insides twist whenever Emily’s fingers brush the hair from her neck.

The song changes and so does something between them. Emily’s gaze is still soft, but it looks deeper into Beca, patient and knowing. Lightning cracks outside and the air crackles between them, tense with energy and something unspoken but viscerally felt.

Beca sees it like she’s outside of her body, hovering and looking down. Or maybe she’s dreamt this moment before, some kind of deja vu she just now realized she’d been wanting.

Emily hovers over her, her fingers dragging along Beca’s cheek bone. And then she’s leaning down or maybe Beca’s reaching up or maybe it’s the both of them, at the same time, moving closer and closer and -

Beca’s body burns when their lips touch. Emily exhales into Beca’s mouth, sharp and quick. The room spins and Beca squeezes her eyes shut, her whole body igniting with warmth and wanting.

God she wants so much.

Her hands tug at Emily’s hips, pulling them into hers, and Emily’s forearms settle next to Beca’s head. Her long hair falls in Beca’s face and she pushes it back, her eyes fluttering open to look at Beca.

“Is this okay?” She whispers, and Beca nods because she doesn’t trust her voice not to squeak if she tries to say something.

Emily kisses her again, slow and soft, and it drives Beca crazy. She wants to sink into it, wants Emily to settle deeper into her, their skin touching.

And part of Beca thinks _maybe we shouldn’t_ , but she _wants to_ and she’s not sure where those two thoughts overlap. Her fingers slide around Emily’s back and under her shirt. Emily shivers and she readjusts her position, her body pressing more solidly on top of Beca’s. Her nose slides along Beca’s skin, and into her hair. Beca drags Emily’s shirt up, her fingers exploring her back, the soft skin, the ridges of her spine.

Then Emily’s looking deeper into her eyes and Beca’s tugging her shirt off and Emily’s wearing this tiny black bra and any thought she had of _we shouldn’t do this_ disappears.

//

When she thinks back on it later, she’ll swear she wasn’t scared.

But the truth is much more complex. Maybe she was scared. Or maybe she was confused. Or maybe she just wasn’t sure whether she _should_ be afraid or not, and that’s what made it so confusing.

They lie on the floor after, half-naked and skin-warm and so so close. Beca’s got her nose pressed into Emily’s neck, smelling perfume and sweat and tequila. Everything is fuzzy and soft around the edges, accentuated by the candlelight and the storm outside.

Emily’s fingers tread lightly over her skin, her long arms moving up to Beca’s shoulders and down to her lower back again. Sometimes her lips press into Beca’s hair, gentle and easy.

Things might have been different if the lights never came back on. She might have been content to stay there for a long time, to lift her head and look Emily in the eyes and not be afraid.

As it is, that’s not what happened.

Beca’s thinking maybe she could fall asleep like this when the power surges back, the room around them suddenly lit by the bright overhead lights. She jolts, everything within her tensing, and rolls off of Emily, her back hitting the carpet.

She immediately misses Emily’s warmth.

“Oh,” Emily murmurs, leaning up on her forearms. Beca’s eyes keep skirting around, unsure where to look. Emily’s hair is a mess, all pushed back, and her boobs are like, right there. Beca turns away, looking for her pants.

“Guess that’s our cue to go to bed,” Beca jokes, and her laughter is forced and awkward and she can tell Emily thinks so, too.

She glances back to see Emily’s head tilted to the side, just watching Beca. She doesn’t look hurt, exactly, but maybe just confused, uncertain what Beca’s going to do.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks. “Do you wanna like, talk about what just happened? Maybe we should. I mean…” She trails off when Beca stands up and pulls her sweatpants back on.

Beca shrugs. “We were drunk and there were candles and we were bored. Right?” She wishes her voice wasn’t so pleading.

Emily nods. “I mean, yeah, but…” She reaches her for shirt and slides it over her head, her legs crossing underneath her. She shrugs, at a loss for words.

Beca wants to crawl in her bed and sleep away her drunkenness and potentially ignore this whole thing, and college-Beca might have done that, but she’s not that person so much anymore. Or at least she tries not to be.

“Umm. Look I think…” She wrings her hands, runs one through her hair. “I think... I had a good time. And also I’m still drunk. And maybe we should talk about this in the morning, when things, you know, make more sense. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. “That’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Emily smiles and Beca’s heart pings just a little bit. “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay. Cool.” Beca’s whole body jitters with awkwardness. “Um. Then I’m just gonna go… sleep it off or whatever.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Beca bolts out of there as casual as possible, which isn’t super casual when your roommate doesn’t have pants on. She brushes her teeth and gets into bed, breathing into the dark, her heart pounding.

She’s suddenly exhausted, but she can’t sleep. She feels restless.

When Emily goes into the bathroom to get ready for bed, she breathes quietly, listening to her familiar nighttime routine. Finally, she hears Emily’s footsteps in the hall and the sound of her door closing. She falls asleep after that, but she’s restless and uncomfortable.

It’s not her greatest sleep ever.

//

She wakes up with a headache, but it probably has less to do with a hangover and more to do with the fact that she woke up every couple of hours.

She grumbles and pops a Tylenol, her mouth dry as sandpaper.

She slowly makes her way to the kitchen and her stomach flips when she sees Emily sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through her phone. The morning light is soft on her features and a nervousness fills Beca’s chest, mostly because she doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“Is the milk okay?”

Emily looks up at her, first in surprise, then in confusion. She swallows the bite in her mouth. “What?”

Beca gestures toward her cereal bowl. “The power went out. Did the milk spoil?”

Emily’s eyes widen a little and she looks down at her cereal. Then she shrugs. “I guess not. I forgot to check, but it tastes fine…” As if to back herself up, she takes another big bite. “Yep, seems fine.”

Beca shakes her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She pours herself some coffee and sits across the table from Emily, cupping her hands around her mug and trying not to seem weird.

Emily sees right through her. “So… this is awkward.” She crinkles her nose cutely and laughs a little, putting her spoon in her mouth and looking at Beca with playful eyes. It almost makes it not awkward.

Almost.

“A little…” Her fingers tap an unknown rhythm against the side of her mug. She takes a deep breath. “Last night was… weird.”

Emily nods, tilting her head a little. “Yeah. But… a good weird.”

Beca raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Emily says easily. “I’m not gonna say it wasn’t weird. It was totally weird. But like, I still had fun. So.” She shrugs.

“Huh.” Beca twists her lips. “Me too.”

“Cool.” Emily takes another bite of cereal, watching Beca across the table.

Part of Beca kind of wants to look away, but she can’t. “Um, like.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t think…” Emily shoots her a patient smile and Beca grits her teeth, continuing. “I don’t know if there are like, expectations now, or whatever. I mean. I had fun. And it was good. But like, I don’t think we should, like, date or anything? I mean we still have like eight months left on our lease and you’re my friend and I don’t want it to be weird. Sorry. No offense.”

Emily hums lightly, nodding.

“And like, I think you’re hot, don’t get me wrong. And it was fun, you know? Like. The sex was good. I just don’t want it to get weird between us because you always hear of that happening and we have a pretty good setup here. But I don’t want you to think I like, don’t like you as a person, or think you’re ugly or something, because it’s definitely the opposite.”

Emily laughs, full and genuine. “Beca.” She nudges Beca under the table with her foot. “I’m not offended. I know.”

“Okay because I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Okay.” Emily grins. “I think you’re hot too and I definitely like you as a person. And you’re like, the best roommate ever. The last one I had smelled like soup. You don’t smell like soup. You smell really good. Like clean laundry.”

Beca blinks. “Okay…”

“And like, yeah, I would totally have sex with you again, but I’m not like, thinking we should get married or even go out, you know? I’m a modern woman, I know you don’t have to date someone if you sleep with them, so.”

“Uh.” Beca taps at her mug again. “Wait. Rewind. What?”

“I’m a modern woman and -”

“No before that.” Beca tilts her head to the side. “Did you say you’d like, have sex with me again?”

Emily shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, like you said, it was super fun. And pretty good. And I like you as a person. So.” She brings another spoonful of cereal to her mouth. “Like, I don’t regret it or anything, don’t worry.”

And Beca gets an idea. Like a _we-shouldn’t-do-this_ idea but times five. And it’s a crazy idea because, like, Beca’s had casual sex like, twice in her life and she’s pretty sure Emily never has before last night.

“So, do you want to?”

Emily gives her a confused look. “Do I want to what?”

“Uh. Like, you know.” She gestures with her hand awkwardly. “Have sex. Again.”

Emily’s eyes widen in recognition. Her spoon clinks against her bowl as it slips through her fingers. “Oh.”

“I mean, we don’t have to, obviously. But like you said it was fun and good and whatever.” Beca cringes. “Umm you know what, never mind, it was stupid I shouldn’t have said that.”

Her flight response kicks in and she starts to push out of her chair. Emily promptly reaches for her hand. “Wait.”

“It’s fine,” Beca’s quick to say. “Don’t like, do something because you feel bad. I’m sorry I’m awkward.”

“Beca,” Emily gives her the softest, most adoring look, which frankly makes everything about this more awkward. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Beca blinks in surprise and slumps back down in her chair. “You… do?”

“Yeah,” Emily nods, still grabbing Beca’s hand. “I mean, I keep thinking I need more adventure in my life while I’m young and still can, you know? And I trust you so, so much. Like, as much as you can trust a person. And I feel comfortable with you. I think, I don’t know,” Emily shrugs and gives a bashful grin. “I think we could have fun.”

“Oh,” Beca murmurs.

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other across the table, squeezing each other’s hands until Emily releases hers and grabs her spoon again.

“So… we’re like, doing this then?” Beca asks, still not really sure they should but definitely sure that she wants to.

“Guess so,” Emily chirps, putting another spoonful of cereal in her mouth. She raises her eyebrows at Beca.

Beca feels strangely giddy and a little goofy. “Okay.”

“So like…?”

“Should we have rules?” Emily hums. “You know, like just in case?”

Beca nods. “Yeah that sounds good. Um. Like we have to tell each other if we want to stop… whatever it is we’re doing.”

“Mhmm. And be honest about if we’re uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Beca agrees. “And um, tell the other if we start dating someone? So that we can stop.”

“And no telling my mom,” Emily says.

Beca snorts. “Absolutely no telling the Bellas. They’ll be insufferable.”

Emily giggles at that. “Deal.”

“And,” Beca exhales, the words leaving her mouth before she can stop them. “No feelings.”

Emily looks at her a moment too long, like so long that Beca’s stomach twists. Then she nods.

“Okay,” she says. “No feelings.”

//

Sex with Emily is like music, Beca thinks.

Sometimes it’s playful and fun and there’s a good rhythm.

Sometimes it’s slow and soft and makes her think she needs to take a big breath and try not to drown in it.

Sometimes it’s more in her head and sometimes it’s more in her body.

Always, though, it makes her feel alive.

//

Beca sort of kind of never really noticed before, but Emily is like... hot. Or whatever.

Maybe not in the Chloe way of being hot, like, that’s one of the first things she noticed about her best friend, one of the first things _everyone_ notices, but like, a different kind of hot.

Like a creep-up-on-you-until-you’re-constantly- _staring_ kind of hot.

She’s hot in the way she runs her hand through her hair when she’s thinking, and she’s hot in the way her shirts are always just like, two centimeters two short (or maybe her torso is just two centimeters too long?).

She’s hot when she’s smiling down at Beca and there’s a good song playing and Beca has goosebumps all up and down her arms.

She’s hot when she kisses Beca, her lips soft and sure, her tongue easing into Beca’s mouth for the briefest of moments.

She’s hot when she exhales out a _is-this-okay_ and Beca’s nodding, always goddamn nodding, when Emily’s fingers crawl under her shirt.

And sometimes she thinks _god-maybe-we-should-stop-this_ , but then Emily’s breath is in her ear and she’s looking like the prettiest girl Beca’s ever seen and, fuck, there is no way they’re stopping.

//

Whenever she spends the nights alone, although it becomes increasingly rarer as time goes on, she thinks about what they’re doing.

When Emily looks at her, Beca’s desires pull her back and forth, like some weighted pendulum of uncertainty. She wants to keep going, she wants to kiss Emily, and catch Emily staring at her ass when she reaches for a glass, and she wants to feel Emily’s breath against her skin when she touches her just right.

But part of her is afraid.

She doesn’t want to hurt Emily. Emily is like, one of her best friends, and sometimes when Emily’s looking at her, Beca feels like she holds the girl’s heart in her hands.

Not that Emily’s said anything about it. It’s against the rules.

She’s not sure if that’s just how Emily is or if Emily has feelings.

They’re bound to hurt each other and Beca doesn’t want that _so much_ that she almost calls it off like ten times.

But then Emily’s reaching for her hand and singing her a sexy song in a way too giggly voice and Beca just -

Lets it happen.

//

Sometimes she’s not too scared to admit to herself (and only to herself) that she’s afraid because she’s really the one developing feelings.

She doesn’t know how anyone wouldn’t.

But she thinks that only in the softest, darkest moments before sleep.

And when she wakes up, those thoughts feel like a distant dream.

//

When she looks back on it, she’ll swear she wasn’t the one who broke the rules first.

But she was.

God she was.

//

Maybe it wasn’t so explicit, but deep in her heart she knows it was her.

Maybe she didn’t break them in so many words… maybe she didn’t tell Chloe or start dating anyone else or even tell Emily she might have Feelings.

But sometimes it’s like Emily can read her thoughts just by looking into her eyes or holding her hand and sitting in silence with her.

And maybe it was because of the damn song playing.

This song that’s masquerading as something sexy and fun with a good beat. A song that’s really about not wanting to be just friends and being soft and waking up together.

And maybe it’s because Beca feels her heart clenching like it means something when Emily touches her face with an impossible amount of gentleness, looks at her with an inconceivable tenderness.

So Beca looks back, looks right into Emily’s eyes, and she doesn’t even say anything.

But Emily blinks and leans back slightly, her head tilting to the side.

No, she didn’t say anything, but God, it feels like Beca broke the rules, feels like she wears her heart right on her sleeve next to her tattoos and Emily’s running her fingers over it, feeling it thump under her palm.

And Beca thinks _maybe-we-shouldn’t-do-this_ and Emily bites her lip like _I-see-you-I-know-you-I-want-you_ -

And Beca falls.

//

She avoids Emily for a few days.

When she thinks back on it, she’ll pretend she was busy, that she just had a lot of work to do and it wasn’t intentional and she wasn’t afraid.

She was so afraid she almost couldn’t breathe.

//

“Hey,” Emily says to her one morning when Beca’s trying to sneak off to work before her roommate wakes up. But there’s Emily, sitting at the table like that first morning, eating cereal and scrolling through her phone.

“Uh,” Beca says, offering a smile. “Hey.”

Emily taps her spoon against her lips and Beca knows Emily’s back feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingers when they’re in bed and not here, right now, in this moment.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks, pouting a little. “You seem distracted or something.”

“No, yeah.” Beca clears her throat, fighting the urge to just… run out the door. “I’m pretty busy at work, but all good.”

Emily hums thoughtfully. “Is it because of - ” she pauses, taps her fingers on the table. “Are we still good?”

“Yeah, word.” Beca cringes. “I mean. I’m good. You good?”

“Beca.”

“What?”

Emily’s looking at her with _that look_ and Beca wants to yell _you-shouldn’t-be-doing-that_ and her defenses flare, like her heart is on some goddamn display and Emily won’t stop looking, peering at it through the glass with interest and nodding like it makes so much sense.

“I think we should stop,” Emily says, and she finally looks away, like she’s ashamed or uncertain or maybe she saw something inside Beca’s diarama heart that she didn’t like.

Beca blinks, rocking back on her heels. “Uh. Stop?”

“Yeah,” Emily murmurs, her voice so small and unsure. “I think.” She taps her spoon against her bowl. “I think I broke the rules.”

“You…” Beca frowns. “What do you mean?”

Emily shrugs. She looks back at Beca, her eyes wide and helpless. “I have feelings.”

Beca’s stomach drops like she just jumped out of a plane. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

Emily looks like she’s about to cry and Beca’s skin crawls. She knew this would happen. She new they shouldn’t be doing this.

She knew… she knew…

“Umm.” Beca nods. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. I mean. We should definitely probably stop then.”

Emily bites her lip, nodding quickly and Beca can’t _look,_ doesn’t want to see the moment everything shatters.

“I have to…” She gestures toward the door, hating herself just a little too much. “But, umm, look don’t… don’t worry about it, alright? I’ll see you later.”

And then she’s leaving because Emily’s crying and if she doesn’t get out of there she’s sure Emily will read her heart like a damn seismograph.

//

She ditches work because she’s not sure she can handle being torn down by some shit-hole wannabe Eminem.

Instead she texts Chloe and drives over to her place to waste the day doing nothing.

Her best friend is currently running a doggy daycare and has like, twelve dogs in her house, plus her own three slobbery babies.

“Down, Gus! Down!”

Beca’s not like a dog-hater or anything, but having a 200 pound Mastiff jump on you when you’re 5’2” would make anyone a little hesitant.

“Sorry about all the noise,” Chloe says over the whining and panting of twelve dogs. “I had to do _something_ to fill this place up while Chicago’s overseas.”

They sit at the table, drinking coffee and catching up. Beca gets roped into accidentally playing an unending game of fetch with Gus while Chloe talks about her most recent conversations with Aubrey and Stacie and all of the girls.

Beca nods and replies when necessary, but she’s happy to let Chloe distract her with inconsequential gossip. It’s a relief actually.

Until it isn’t.

“So, you didn’t say in your texts, and of course I’m _so_ happy to see you, but why are you playing hookie today?”

Chloe’s giving her those patient _why-are-you-emo-today-Beca_ eyes that Beca basically saw every day in college. She shrugs and throws the ball for Gus again, watching as he slides across the hardwood floor in his unmatched desire to chase rolling objects.

“Just didn’t feel like dealing with assholes all day.”

Chloe pauses, before sighing. “Beca, you know I’m not one to pry - ” Beca snorts in disbelief. “ - but I can tell when you’re lying and I can tell when you’re sad and I can tell when you come over to my house because something is wrong and you want me to kick your ass.”

Beca frowns. “I don’t want that.”

“You do, sweetie, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Beca slumps on the table, her chin in her hand. “I like, fucked _up_ , dude.”

Chloe swirls her coffee around in its mug, looking thoughtful. “Could you be more specific?”

“It’s Emily,” Beca whines, cringing at how pathetic her voice sounds.

Chloe eyes her over her mug before taking a sip. “I see.”

“You do?”

“Well, you’re sleeping with her aren’t you?”

Beca’s mouth falls open. “I… what? How? Are you _stalking_ me? _Again?_ ”

Chloe snorts. “Okay, first, I never stalked you. I was in that shower before you. Second, Beca, please.” Chloe gives her a pitying look that Beca absolutely loathes. “Every time we text it’s _Emily_ this and _Emily_ that and you’re always staring at her. Like, I get it. She’s totes a babe and super smart, and like, you guys have that music vibe. I support it one hundred percent.”

“Uh. Thanks?” Beca groans. “But like, did you not hear the part where we fucked up?”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “No, you said _you_ fucked up.”

“Well I meant _we_.”

“Right.”

Beca gives an exasperated sigh. Chloe’s being obtuse on purpose and she hates it. “It was supposed to be this friends with benefits thing, you know? She’s Emily. But like, I don’t know. She has feelings.”

“Okay,” Chloe nods, confusion clouding her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what happens in relationships.”

“I said it was friends with benefits.”

“Was it, though?” Chloe asks and Beca’s like, probably gonna strangle her.

She throws Gus’ ball instead. “Yes,” she hisses.

“But you have feelings, too.”

“I - ”

“Oh, wait I get it.” Chloe nods, her eyes widening. “Yep, I see now. So you guys thought you could do it without feelings even though you two are probably the most awkward and soft people in the world.”

Beca scoffs. “I am _not_ soft.”

“Beca, please.” Chloe tsks. “So you guys clearly are like, basically dating, but you thought you were just sleeping together, and what? You set out some big rule that you can’t fall in love or something?” She looks at Beca expectantly.

“No feelings,” Beca begrudgingly mutters.

“Oh, sweetie.”

Has there ever been a time Beca’s wanted to crawl under a blanket and hide more than this moment? Probably not.

“I fucked up,” she says again. “I don’t know what to do.”

Chloe grabs her hand across the table and gives her a sympathetic smile. “Well, I think you have to make a decision.”

“I do?”

“Mhmm.” Chloe scrunches her nose cutely. “Between asking Emily out for reals or running away to Canada and becoming a hermit.”

Beca tries not to smile, but pretty much fails. “Oh are those the only options.”

“Yep.” Chloe smiles softly. “Do you not want to be with her?”

Beca shrugs. “I guess I didn’t really think about that as like, an option. I just thought…”

“That only one of you would fall and the other would get hurt?” Chloe grins knowingly.

“Yeah.” Beca sighs, wondering how her insides got so mixed up. “I mean it’s Emily.”

“That makes it make more sense to me actually,” Chloe shrugs.

Beca scowls. “Well not all of us are love experts. And if you’re so smart, then you could’ve given me a heads up!”

Chloe shakes her head, smiling. “And when have you ever listened to my dating advice?”

“Uh, right now?” Beca scoffs incredulously.

“Yeah, this is a first.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Chloe laughs like that’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

//

When she gets home, she doesn’t know what to expect.

Maybe that Emily would be gone or locked in her room crying, or something.

She doesn’t expect Emily to be sitting at the kitchen table with textbooks and papers surrounding her, her laptop and a plate of pizza going cold in front of her.

While Beca had decided to play hookie to escape her feelings, Emily clearly had done the opposite, throwing herself into work and her research.

“Hey,” Beca cautiously says, toeing off her shoes and hanging her keys up.

“Hey,” Emily replies, barely looking up from where she’s typing away on her laptop like a madman. “I ordered pizza if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks.”

Emily nods, her eyes not leaving her screen. “Mhmm.”

Beca watches for a second, taking in Emily’s sweats, ripped at the bottoms, the way her knee is pulled to her chest. Her hair, in a messy bun that’s falling out because she keeps running her fingers through it.

She’s so beautiful Beca’s insides tie themselves in knots.

She’s such a moron.

“Em,” she softly says, moving just a little bit closer.

“Huh?”

Beca steels herself, clenching her fingers in and out. “Can we… talk?”

Emily’s fingers halt their typing and she finally, finally looks up at Beca. Her eyes are wide and terrified and Beca feels small. So, so small.

“Right now?” She squeaks out.

Beca nods. “If that’s okay.”

Emily stares at her regretfully before shutting her laptop and turning to face her. “Look, I’m so sorry, Bec. Can’t we just forget I said anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Beca shrugs.

“Oh.” Emily looks like she’s about to cry again and Beca hurries to continue.

“Um, because like, I don’t want to.”

Emily’s eyes flitter about, refusing to land on anything. “Okay?”

“I mean,” Beca sighs, gritting her teeth. “That I broke the rules, too. I have… feelings. Feelings for you. Like more than just… sex… feelings.”

Emily tilts her head to the side. “Oh.”

“So…”

“We have feelings for each other?” Emily frowns, confused.

“I guess so.” Beca rocks back and forth a little. “Is that okay?”

And then Emily breaks into the biggest smile and Beca’s heart might as well be on an upside down rollercoaster because it’s looping the fuckin’ loop. “Yeah,” Emily laughs. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Cool,” Beca says and Emily laughs again.

“So like… we’re doing this?”

Beca nods. “Uh, yeah, if you want to?”

“I do.”

“Okay. Great.”

Emily looks at her a moment too long, like so long that Beca’s stomach twists. Then she nods.

“So you going to kiss me or…?”

And Beca does.

//

In the years after, they’ll say it was romantic, the way they got together.

The truth is, it was much more awkward than that.

They kiss and they eat cold pizza and when they go to bed. Emily steals the covers and Beca worries that she forgot to shave her legs.

Emily runs her thumb over Beca’s cheekbones and Beca tangles her feet with Emily’s and they fall asleep, with their clothes still on and their fingers intertwined, their lips quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

When they look back on it, they’ll say it was because they loved each other, and they knew it.

And the truth is just that.

**Author's Note:**

> emilyjunk.tumblr.com thanks for readingggggggggggggggg


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